


Home

by WittyKins



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 06:43:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16383278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WittyKins/pseuds/WittyKins
Summary: It starts with a phone call and a request that sends her running down to the lair at a breakneck pace. Now, she is stuck in a room with one of her dearest friends, who is coping with some personal demons. Will she be able to help him navigate the darkest corners of his mind or, will his pain affect those around him?





	Home

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/161551231@N05/44595871935/in/dateposted-friend/)

She was not summoned to the lair under the most desirable of circumstances... 

In fact, it was as Michelangelo hysterically squawked over the phone earlier this morning, "a major big fat giant super code purple!" Slamming the phone to the receiver, she wasted no time getting ready for a voyage underground. Tossing her red hair into a messy bun, she quickly tugged on a t-shirt, jeans, and a pair of sneakers. Grabbing her pre-packed backpack, she flew out of the front door of her apartment, making her way to the home of her subterranean friends. Her sneakers slapped against the wet bricks while her steady breathing ricocheted through the damp air. Her clothes and hair were weighed down by the weight of her sweat, and her backpack which clung to her shoulders jostled violently.

As she navigated the endless maze of the underground, she thought the worst.

Had one of them fallen ill?

Or, had been captured by an enemy?

Perhaps one was mortally wounded?

Pushing those thoughts to the back of her mind, she pressed onward. Fear seeped into her body. Her blood felt viscous as her heavy heart pumped the fluid towards her flailing limbs. Sliding around a corner, she fell unceremoniously to the floor in a desperate attempt to avoid a collision with a turtle-shaped figure shrouded by shadows. Sitting up slowly, she tenderly rubbed the back of her neck. Out of the darkness, a robust green hand appeared. April, smiling meekly, took it and allowed its owner to hoist her carefully to her feet. Dusting off the seat of her pants while mumbling, she spotted a pair of worn blue mask tails draped lazily across a broad shoulder.

In hindsight, Leo meeting her in the sewer tunnels was the wisest decision. As she babbled off questions with tears in her eyes, he spoke in a hushed tone, much like a mother to her frightened child. He assured her that they were all accounted for and that none had been injured beyond repair. Though he flashed her a gentle smile, she could sense that something was off. Not to mention, he was wearing what looked like the infamous Life Alert device around his neck. His demeanor, which was usually relaxed and confident, seemed tense and rigid.

As they walked the rest of the way back to their lair, Leo occasionally dropped hints as to why April's presence had been summoned. From what she could gather from his calculated statements, something was going on with Donatello, and it seemed like he wanted her to figure it out.

Seemed simple enough.

Their pace slowed to a stop as they reached the entrance to the lair. Leo opened the door with a small smile and motioned for April to enter. Thanking him softly, she adjusted her backpack and wordlessly strode through the entrance. Upon entering the lair, the first thing that April noticed was the deafening silence. It felt like she had left the real world and stepped into a live recreation of a silent film.

Walking further into the lair with wide eyes, April glanced towards the living room. To her right, she could see a large panel of televisions whose screens were as black as the ocean at night. Rubbing the back of her neck, she nervously murmured under her breath. The worn couch, devoid of any form of life, looked strange. She had grown accustomed to seeing at least one of the turtles perched upon its cushions with a remote or video game controller in hand. Pivoting around, she grimaced at the state of the rest of the lair.

There was no one lifting weights while listening to music.

No one was banging pots around in the kitchen while asking anyone within earshot where certain ingredients had been moved.

No sounds of sparing came crawling from under the cracks of the door to the dojo.

No one grumbling about doing chores or completing a set of exercises as a form of punishment.

There was nothing.

For the first time the lair was in complete silence, a ghost town of its former self.

April’s eyes swept over her surroundings only to land on Raphael and Michelangelo, who stood near a closed door. To her surprise, she could immediately see that they were wearing the same device around their necks as Leo. Smirking to herself, she made a mental note to ask them about their newest fashion craze after she found out what was ailing Don. 

Squinting her eyes, she saw hints of an animated conversation. She could see their lips moving as well as the occasional wild gesture. Still, she heard no sound. Straining her ears, she craned her neck towards the two turtles who were openly discussing some critical matter in hushed tones.

A green blinking light situated above the door caught April's attention. The room was occupied, and the occupant, whom she concluded to be Donatello, was nestled inside. The green light meant the door was unlocked, which came to a relief. April stood in the middle of the lair, taking in the sights. Aside from the lack of noise, everything seemed to be in its place. Getting lost in her thoughts, she tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

The sound of the front door slamming sailed through the lair like a raging freight train. As its roar shot through April, she gasped at the abruptness. The noise filled the deadened space, expelling the suffocating silence that clung to the air. At that moment the metallic screech that sliced through the stillness prompted everything to return to normalcy.  
As if on cue, both Raphael and Michelangelo shifted their attention away from each other towards April. They stood against the wall, staring at her with the same calculated expression as Leo when she collided with him in the sewers.

"Hi, guys," she quipped while offering a nervous wave in their direction. After a few moments, Mikey broke the silence that existed between the two parties and awkwardly bounded in her direction. Grabbing her lightly by the wrist, he tugged her towards Don's Lab.

“We’re glad you could make it, April,” he began slowly, a forced smile creeping to his face. Motioning in the direction of Leo who had quietly joined her he tilted his head towards the closed door. “I’m sure that the good ol’ Boy in Blue clued you into what’s going on.”

"Well, yeah. Sort of. Leo just told me that there is something wrong with Don and he wanted me to talk to him."

Mikey shot a quick glance over his shoulder. Turning his attention back to April, he shrugged. "Pretty much. Sorry that I called your apartment in a panic. I just didn't really know what to do. Normally, um, when one of us is...well...like Don, we'd ask Master Splinter." Shrugging his shoulders, a small whine escaped. "Anyways, he's out of town and us kind of figured you'd be the next best at solving this...little problem."

“Little...problem?”

Furrowing her brow, April exchanged a quizzical look between the three turtles. Everything about their demeanor seemed off. Panic crept into the back of her mind, and she wondered just what they had wanted her to talk to Donatello about. With a shrug, Raphael quickly turned the doorknob. The door crept open with a pained squeak revealing a room illuminated with a faint electronic glow. Turning around, she flashed the other three turtles a quizzical look before shutting the door, the room's darkness consuming her.

And the rest, as they say, was history. 

In a perfect world, April would have confidently waltzed into the dark room with a game plan in mind, an accurate assessment of Donatello's condition quickly following. In a perfect world, Donatello would have abandoned his post in front of his computer monitors only to tearfully confide his innermost thoughts to her while she listened with an attentive ear and an open heart. In a perfect world, she would have never seen the images splashed across his computer screen, plaguing her thoughts in sickening waves like the large exploding pus-filled boils on the body of a victim of the Black Death.

However, April, more than anyone, knew that a perfect world only existed in the fairytales that peppered the imaginations of young children as well as those who were young at heart. A perfect world was as far from reality as Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy. The world, as she knew it, no, as she lived it, was cynically imperfect. Indiscriminate were the unfair hands that were dealt to the masses who were in turn forced to endure their cruel fate without as much as a stifled moan.  
And in this imperfect world, she sat silently on an uncomfortable stool in a dark room next to a giant mutated turtle who, for the past few hours, had disregarded her presence while obsessively watching the body cam footage of a woman who was dying from fatal injuries.

The initial shock of seeing the footage of a young woman whose fruitless attempts at cheating death caused April to fall to her knees while clenching her midsection. The still air grew heavier with each passing second, causing her lungs to work double time as they gasped for fresh air. Tears stung the back of her eyes as her questioning glare fell upon the shell of the one she was sent to help. Hearing the woman's breathy plea for help shifted her focus back to the screen. The woman's bloodied face, battered and bruised, filled the frame while her upper body rested gently within the green arms of whoever was wielding the body camera.

The agonizing howl that filled the audio moments after the woman fell still and silent was no one other than Donatello. Tears fell freely from April’s face as her shaky hands pushed her back to her feet. 

“Don.”

He did not respond. Moving to close the space between the two of them, April felt compelled to throw her arms around him. Her gait was uneasy as she trudged the small distance towards the screens.

“Donny...” Her voice sounded weak.

As her hand reached out to instinctively caress the statuesque turtle, all she could see was Don. The world around them seemed to swirl out of focus. 

Donatello was the one who wore the body camera. He was the one who recorded their nightly patrols for research purposes, and he was the one who, according to the footage, cradled a dying woman in his arms. 

Is this what the others couldn't tell her? 

Was this the secret that lurked behind their Cheshire grins and hollow eyes? A secret that was filled to the brim with caustic bile, too acidic for the ears? The absence of that crucial piece of information felt like a knife to the back. Sharp, at first, only to be replaced by white-hot realization.

Of course, there was something wrong with Donatello.

In fact, that was the biggest understatement of the century. 

There was something very wrong with him. How could anyone expect for him to be fine after bearing witness to an unspeakable tragedy?

Pulling herself out of her thoughts, April violently shook her head. Squeezing her eyes shut, she rapidly counted to ten. As her eyes crept open, she swallowed a yawn before it could make its presence known. Glancing at her wristwatch, April stifled a yawn. A shudder worked its way through her weary form. Her arrival at the lair had occurred about an hour ago, and for the most part, her activities included sitting in this room alone with Don while he watched the same grotesque footage. 

The muted thud of her pen tapping against the thick legal pad started slowly at first. However, the more she racked her brain, the faster the noises became. A slight movement at her side caught her attention. It was as subtle as a whisper, so faint that anyone who wasn't experienced would have overlooked it.

However, April knew Don.

Grimacing, she turned so that she was facing his side. The muscles in his face slightly twitched again, confirming April's hunch. He was ignoring her, but now there was a chink in his stony facade.

“Don, for the love of...Just look at me!” 

Dead air was the only response. 

Grumbling, her feet met the concrete floor with an empty clap. Tossing her notebook to the side, April cursed silently as her pen fell to the floor and rolled under a cabinet. Her trembling hands grabbed the mesh backing of Don's computer chair. Her front teeth dug into her bottom lip as she threw her whole weight into turning him away from the computer screens. Sweat formed on her brow as she remembered, although halfway through, that her four terrapin friends weighed a lot more than her. With one final push, his back was towards the glowing monitors where the screen had frozen on the faraway stare of the battered woman.

Scooting backward till her ankles collided with a wooden shelf, April sunk to the floor in front of Don. Resting her arms on top of her knees, she tilted her head up slowly. For the first time since she entered the room, Donatello finally looked at her.

And when she saw his face, her heart plummeted towards the cold, damp floor on which she was sitting.

His face was incredibly haggard. The skin around his eyes and mouth seem to sag, weighed down by sleep deprivation. His posture seemed both tense and listless. His arms, without the support of his keyboard, hung limply in his lap.

Don's eyes were what haunted April the most. Much like the eyes of his brothers, they were hollow and unfeeling.

“You were always one for theatrics, April.” His voice had as much depth and sincerity as a puddle.  
Red heat crawled up April's neck, making its home on her face. Scrambling to her feet, she threw out her hands and planted them firmly on each of his shoulders. Crossing her arms in open defiance, she shot Don an accusing glare. When his eyes met her halfway with indifference, a raspy scream beginning in the pit of her belly escaped her bared teeth.

“One for theatrics” she roared, “you’re one to talk, mister! You sat in that stupid chair and ignored me while watching the same footage of that...that woman for the past hour!” 

Drawing in a deep breath, April pursed her lips. Pinching her eyes shut until they hurt, she screamed. The noise itself was muffled, and April did not care. In fact, it was not her intention to yell at Don. Instead, she did not know another way to expel the resentment bubbling up in her belly. She was sympathetic to the fact that he was going through a tough time.

Still, that didn’t mean he had to be a jerk.

April's eyes wandered back to the computer screen before resting on Don's.  
Sighing, she leaned in closer to him so that their faces were level. As her light eyes traversed his endless brown seas, she could not locate any sign of life. No hint of the charismatic spark that made Don, well, Don. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

"Are you giving me a choice?"

"You always have a choice, but, as you can see, I don't mind waiting it out until you're ready to talk. I guess it all boils down to who is the most stubborn."

Motioning towards the screens with one swish of the wrist, April sighed, her expression softening. Don's eyes sluggishly followed her long narrow fingers. "I don't know what happened that night, but I do know this behavior isn't normal, Don. We-" she whispered in a voice that was soft, like velvet, "We're worried about you. I-I can't begin to imagine what you went through. I know you're hurting, and you're hurting badly, but I can't help you if you keep shutting me out. Please, just let...me in." His head, becoming seemingly too heavy for his shoulders, dropped. His gaze landing on his feet. The silence between the two of them grew, and for a moment, April feared that she had forced him back into the darkest corners of his mind. A murmur kissed her ear, and she quickly fell to her knees so that she could hear the breathy words that left his lips.

“It's all my fault...”

“Why do you think this is your fault?” Scooting closer to him, April rested a soft hand on his shoulder.

Ripping away from her touch, Don quickly put space between himself and her outstretched hand. His head, shooting up like a blade of grass, held eyes glazed over with tears and fury.

“Because it is! She wouldn't have died if I wasn't so...so...careless!” His eyes fall shut as he fruitlessly tries to slow his breathing. Taking a deep inhale, the voice that emerged was rasped. “Her death was caused by me, you know.”

“Don, you can't think th-"

“Don't,” he spits out through gritted teeth, “for a moment tell me what I should think. I am tired of everyone telling me how I should feel. I am already getting enough of that from my family, April. I do not need it from you.”

April sat silently staring at Don.

Slumping back into his chair like a deflated balloon, Don looked defeated. The spark that ignited his eyes disappeared, leaving a forlorn look in its wake. Using his feet, he halfheartedly scoots his chair back towards his desk while turning around to face the screens. Extending a shaky hand, he reaches towards the spacebar of his computer, giving the long key a solemn tap. The screen flickers to life, allowing the footage resume.

The two sat watching the scenes unfold in their entirety. The sounds of Don's screams and frantic movements caused April's stomach to churn. At this point in the footage, she could hear faint shouting from above. The shouting was too far away to be clear, but there was no doubt in her mind that the voices belonged to the other three turtles. As his mournful yowls turned into desperate pleas, she averted her eyes from the screen, choosing instead to focus on her legal pad. The distant whine of a police siren emerged without warning from the background causing the shouts from above became more frantic.

The sirens grew nearer, and April could hear Don mumbling something to the dead woman about how he had to go and that he was sorry. A slow shuffle followed by the hollow thud of a lifeless body hitting the ground sent a shiver up April's spine. Numbness clenched her heart with a tight grip, and it spread throughout her body like wildfire. If it weren't for the soft patter of her tears hitting her legal pad, she would not have felt them cascading down her unfeeling face.

A blue light saturated her pale hands, and she knew the camera reel had stopped. The room, once again, became as silent. After a few moments, movements from Donatello pull her away from her stunned silence. A faint hiss escaped his mouth while his arms wrapped tightly around his plastron. His eyes, clamping shut, moved around rapidly as if he is reliving a painful memory. With his chair creaking in protest, he turned around, so he was facing her. 

April didn't dare to move.

His mouth twitched, and for a moment it appears as if he was searching for words, but none of them seemed to taste right. Finally, he began to speak. 

Softly at first, but his voice quickly rose.  
"That night was one of the worst nights of my life, and I feel like a fool for underestimating how one singular event could disrupt my thoughts." His eyes flickered as he glanced to the side. "However, I was changed...or perhaps I am changing, and I...I don't think I can stop it."

Dropping his head into his hands, he sat motionlessly.

Clearing her throat, April patiently sat until Don was looking at her before continuing. "Don, y-you know that death isn't always something that we can predict. Sometimes people pass without warning...or reason."

A crazed chuckle erupted from Don and his head shot up from his hands as fast as a jolt of lightning. April frowned, clenching the legal pad tightly in her hands and scooting backward until her back connected with a solid surface. For the first time, his eyes looked wild with amusement and given the present topic, it was terrifying.

“Oh, April...that’s where you’re wrong.”

Another fit of laughter escaped from Don. His body thrashed around so violently that he slid from his chair while holding his sides and fell to the floor like a giant green blob. As his laughter slowed, April could see tears stain the darkened areas around his eyes. Flashing her a grin that teetered on the edge of complete madness, he cocked his head to the side.

"On the surface, it would seem as if her death was meaningless, but I can prove that it was me who caused it. That day, as per usual it would seem, was a normal day filled with the same monotonous events that had become our family's routine. Our morning was filled with breakfast followed by training and meditation. After lunch, the afternoon was ours, and I worked tirelessly in the lab and around the lair for a few hours until Leo summoned us for our nightly patrol. As we rushed to the surface, searching the different city zones and confronting the usual urban ruffians, I realized that I had forgotten to check the street camera footage."

Don’s eyes widened in her direction expectantly, and April shrugged her shoulders. “Okay,” she began in a calm and unhurried voice, “so what if you didn’t check the street cameras?”

With quiet intensity, Don glared at her as if she had sprouted another head. April chewed on her lip while furrowing her brow. His gaze shot through her like bullets. 

“Don’t you get it? The only thing I didn't do was review footage.”

“I-I don’t see what you’re getting at?”

“For as long as I can remember, I always check the footage before we go. That was the only thing different about that night. Don’t you see?”

Her mouth gaped open as she stared at him in disbelief. She knew that witnessing the death of this woman had been difficult for Don, but he couldn’t seriously believe that his oversight was the direct cause of her demise. 

“Don,” she began only to have her counterargument dismissed with a quick flick of a wrist. Crawling on all fours, Don shuffled his way to where she sat. When he was inches away from her, he sat up and rested on his knees.

"And that's when it happened. Like a story etched in stone, that woman's fate was sealed the moment I forgot to uphold my duty. My brother's and I were all standing on the same rooftop before destiny took its course. First, I heard tires screeching followed by a woman screaming and a gunshot. When I broke off from the other's, I could smell burnt rubber as the car quickly peeled away. At the time, I didn't know what to expect, but I knew it would not be good."

Don's eyes clamped shut.

"By the time I arrived, and I saw her splayed across the ground it immediately dawned on me that there was nothing I could do. As I moved closer, I could see that she was shot point blank in the stomach. When she saw me, a calmness fell over her eyes and at that moment, I felt ashamed that she was relying on me, a stranger, to find some way to save her."

"Don, "April's voice cracked. Her throat felt dry. He shook his head as if he was trying to shake away the memories of that night.

"I couldn't. I-I couldn't save her, and I knew it. B-blood gushed from her wound in crimson waves, blackening her blouse and drenching the asphalt below her. A-at first, all I could do was gawk at her like...a fish out of water. For the first time in my life, I-I felt so helpless and out of place. When her breathing became more labored, a gurgle erupted from her throat from every rise and fall of her chest. It scared me so much because I knew she...she didn't have much longer. I carefully waded through the sticky scarlet puddle that had pooled up at the bottom of my feet. After I reached her, I fell to my knees and…".

His voice trailed off absentmindedly, and April wondered how Don could look both far away and present at the same time. A single tear fell from his eye and landed on the corner of his cracked lip. A small, pink tongue, gently slid out of his mouth, greedily licking the salty droplet. "I-I don't know...I just gently grabbed her and held her in my arms." His chest tightened, and his next statement was spoken so softly that if she had breathed, she would have missed it.

Don was looking at her now, and his pupils seemed to magnify as he fought back the tears which threatened to fall without warning. Scooting closer, until his knees touched hers, he placed shaking hands on top of her thighs. When she reached out to touch his face, to offer him some sort of comfort, the dams broke, and his body was overtaken by an onslaught of sobs and tears.

"H-have y-you ever seen someone dying," he choked out as more of a statement rather than a question. "It was the worst thing I've ever seen. S-she didn't go quietly...y'know...like they show you in the movies. Her death rattle was all I could hear even though she pleaded for her life the whole damn time. Her eyes frantically looked back and forth, questioning why I wasn't doing anything to h-help her. And like the sunset along the horizon, her life vanished from her eyes.  
She grew limp in my arms, and even though her body was still warm...it felt like nothing more than an empty shell."

After Donatello’s admission, the silence that stretched between them caressed her skin like a bitter autumn wind. It froze the breath in her mouth, sealing it in with a bitter kiss. When she finally exhaled, it escaped its prison in shaky waves as she tried desperately to formulate something articulate to say to Don. 

What could she say?

How would any cliché statement erase what he was forced to witness? She was aware, as they were that the lifestyle they led came with a cost. And sometimes, that cost was the ultimate cost. April was sure he had experienced death before, but for some reason, this seemed different. Don, the most rational of the four, seemed to think he played a direct role in that woman's passing.

Had his brothers not comforted him in his time of need. Surely, they were not blind to what occurred that night, and from the footage, it sounded like they may have witnessed a portion of it for themselves. Why then, was it necessary for her to be the one to fix Don?

Did he shut them out like he tried to shut her out?

Licking her lips, she winced at how chapped they felt. Thirst hit her mouth that a barren desert and she gulped in a desperate attempt to coat her dry throat before speaking once again. Don's face was still rested upon her hand, and he was staring into her eyes desperately searching for some unknown key.

"I am not going to pretend to assume that I know what it is like," she began carefully. "That is not going to help you. However, I will tell you that you cannot beat yourself up over this, nor should you feel like you're to blame. I know that you guys see a lot...perhaps more than what teenagers your age are accustomed to seeing. As you guys get older and you tackle bigger threats, the cost is only going to increase and…", she paused as she thought of the best way to put the last statement.

Don tilted his head, waiting. Streaks stained his face where tears had fallen only minutes ago. Sighing, April placed her other hand on the other side of his check. She pulled him closer so that their foreheads were resting together. With a click of her tongue, she shrugged her shoulder and flashed the most hopeful smile she could muster. “You can’t let them all consume you. You must focus on what you can control and those you can help. Remind yourself about the good things you have accomplished so that you can get through moments like these...okay?”

Don didn't say anything. He sat motionless with his head resting in between April's warm hands. April searched his face only to frown. Shaking her head, she rubbed her thumbs across his beak. Don was lost in his own head, carefully mulling over what she said. His brow furrowed, his eyes grew more distant. April hoped that her words offered a form of solace to his troubled soul. April felt two warm hands wrap around her wrist. Without a sound, Don pulled her hands away from his face and dropped them at her sides. Scooting backward, he mumbled something to himself while nodding in satisfaction.

Perhaps what she said did help. 

“Life is too fragile, April. If I have learned anything from that night, it is that no one, not even us, is above the lawlessness and unpredictability of living in this world. One moment you could be alive, and the next moment,” he closed his eyes shuddering. Motioning to the door, he continued, “what I am trying to say is, I have been thinking this over for a while now, actually. What is preventing that senseless tragedy from occurring to them?”

"Don, you can't think like that!" 

He shrugged off her statement. "What is preventing that from happening to Master Splinter, or...to you, April?" Placing his hands on the floor, he carefully pushes himself to his feet. "You are right, I do need to focus on the good that I am doing to protect those that need protecting, including my family and friends. It is time to take matters into my own hands because statistically, what transpired between that woman and myself could happen to any one of us."

With that last statement, he demeanor grew cold, much like earlier. Turning on his heels, he made a beeline for his computer. Grabbing his chair, he scooted it closer to the screens. Sitting down in his chair with a thud, Don's fingers flew across the keyboard as he typed in various commands. The footage of the woman vanished, only to be replaced with images from around the lair, sewers, and...his brothers?

April gasped. On the screen, she could see three separate body cam video feeds, each transmitting from the necklaces she saw earlier on Leo, Raph, and Mikey. She could hear hushed remnants of a conversation between Raph and Mikey, while the faint clatter of ceramic dishes filled Leo's feed as he casually fixed himself a snack in the kitchen. 

Do they know they are under surveillance? 

Realization slammed into her like an oncoming train, and her head blared with hindsight. All the signs flashed before her like the fleeting images of the countryside on a long voyage. The odd conversations, the hollow eyes, the carefully scripted behavior...they all had known. As she glared at the footage in horror, April noticed that every door of the lair had a blinking green light above it.

Just like the light that hung above the door to his laboratory. 

“Don...w-what is going on?”

Nothing. The only response April received was the steady clacking of a keyboard.

"Don," she shouted while jumping to her feet. She threw her legal pad to the ground. Closing the distance between them, she shook the back of his chair. "Don, answer me, dammit!"

Nothing. 

Screaming, she shook the back of his chair harder. “Don, explain why you have cameras all around the lair. What is with the microphones and the lights above all the doors? What are you trying to do?”

“I told you that I am taking things into my own hands. No one in my immediate circle will meet that same fate,” he murmurs in a tone completely monotone. 

Panic erupted through her brain like a cluster of loose wires. He hands gripped the back of his chair so hard that her knuckles began to ache. Don wasn’t being rational, and the thought of what he meant by taking matters into his own hands terrified her. With a final click of a button, a timer labeled Lockdown appeared on one of the screens. Sixty seconds in large numbers loomed over them. 

"D-Don...Donny, what are you doing?"

Looking over his shoulder, Don cracked his knuckles. His gaze was hollow. With a smile that lacked any sort of feeling, he robotically reached out towards her, closing his hand around hers. "There's enough food in the lair to sustain us for a couple of months before we would need to go back to the surface. The lair, with my new security measures, is as safe as ever. We have Wi-Fi, clean water, heat, and air conditioning to make our living conditions comfortable. Not to mention there is a ton to do down here where we are all safe."

"No!" April snatched her hand away. A faint beeping noise draws her attention back to the screens, and her heart drops into her stomach. Backing away towards the door of the room, she shakes her head in disbelief. “No!”

When the numbers on the screen began to move, her skin crawled. The timer has started. 

How could this be happening?

“Don, y-you c-can’t keep us down here like...animals in a cage! I have t-the shop, my place...I-I have a life up there! Your brothers, what about them?”

His empty smile widened. Standing up with a necklace in his hand, he slowly stalked in April's direction like a predator hunting down its next meal.

“Oh, April. Don’t think of it that way...that is no way to live your new life down here. There will be times where we would need to go to the surface for supplies. However, you all will soon understand that this change to our lifestyle is for the best. The world, as we know it, is just too unpredictable.”

A quick glance to the computers caused April to panic. Fifteen seconds in large numbers flashed as the countdown picked up the pace. Reaching behind her, April's hands closed around the lab's doorknob. Don, wasting no time, made a lunge for April. Sidestepping his advances, she slipped through the door, slamming it in his face as she ran for the entrance door at a breakneck pace.

Her heart thrummed in her ears as she frantically scrambled across the lair, jumping over obstacles in her path. If she hadn't known any better, it would have seemed as if the distance to the entrance had tippled in length. Her legs felt heavy, and her lungs begged for air. The door drew nearer as her arms pumped wildly at her sides.

From behind her, she could hear the lab door slam open. 

“There is no use, April. Don’t you see this is for your own good!”

"April, what's going on?" Leo softly inquired while emerging from the kitchen as she barreled past him. There was no time to stop. No time to fill him in on the details of what was about to happen. She knew that she needed to get out before she was trapped down here forever.

“Five…”

An automatic recording filled the lair as the countdown drew to a close.

“Four…”

Sweat poured into her eyes as she pressed forward. 

“Three…”

The door was near. Extending her hand, April expelled the remaining amount of her energy.

“Two…”

Reaching for the door, her fingers closed shakily around the lever. Shouting erupted behind her as the other three turtles interrogated Don.

“One…”

Her hand twists the lever, and she exhaled. Her eyes closed as she threw her weight into the door. Behind her, an alarm rocketed through the air, masking the panicked shouts of confusion.

“Lockdown commencing…”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my submission for DarkOctober. I hope you all enjoyed it! I would like to give special thanks to Caroaimezoe for organizing the DarkOctober event, KameTerra for Beta Reading, and Gemini_Genie for creating the beautiful artwork that accompanies this piece. Please read and review. Constructive criticism and friendly comments are always welcomed.


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